


Pack Street: The Hunt

by MisterEAnon



Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Thinly disguised underground fight clubs, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterEAnon/pseuds/MisterEAnon
Summary: Written for Thematic Thursday. Theme: Species specific customsAn excitable tigress drags her apathetic room-mate to a Pounce House to celebrate the Day Of The Tiger.Things don't go as planned.





	Pack Street: The Hunt

“I'm about ninety percent certain that's illegal.”

I crossed my arms, entirely failing to pout. I couldn't- Grinning was just part of my nature. I was excited! Today was a great day to be excited.

My roommate, on the other hand, was less excited. In fact, the gray coyote slumped across the couch across from me was so unenthused for just about everything, he had a shirt that just said “Don't” across the front. He always said it was an accurate reflection of his feelings whenever someone tried to talk to him.

I believed him.

I leaned across the coffee table, tail twitching. “C'mon. It's the Day Of The Tiger. This is totally my day, I'm allowed to be excited!”

He glanced up at me briefly from where he was busy fucking around on his phone. “You're excited about going to a Pounce House. If it wasn't illegal, it wouldn't be so underground.”

I huffed. “C'mon. This is TRADITION.”

He didn't look away from his phone as he replied. “So was eating prey, until we stopped doing that, too.”

Ugh. “You're such a stick in the mud.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

I facepawed. God, at least put up a fight or something. “Look, I gotta do this anyway. Like… I gotta show off my tiger instincts tonight somehow. And hunting is the traditional way to do it! Look, a Pounce House is totally legal. It's only underground because it's, uh-”

He gave me a lazy side-eye. “Fetishistic.”

Yes. “No! Look, I'm just trying to… Culturally enrich you, or some shit. You know, let you join in on my culture and junk.”

He sighed, rubbing his muzzle. “If you do something stupid, I'm not carrying you home. You walk.”

Yes! That was totally acceptance. I eagerly pounced my room-mate, hugging him. It was a sign of both his total apathy and how used to me he was that he didn't try to fight it. He just grumbled a halfhearted complaint about dropping his phone off the couch.

Tonight was gonna be AWESOME.

 

 

 

I flashed the bouncer my ID. The polar bear glanced warily over my shoulder at my visibly-disinterested roommate.

“He's with me,” I quickly asserted, grabbing the coyote by the paw and tugging him inside as the ursine stepped aside to let me in. As usual, he put up no resistance.

I swear, I was gonna find a way to make him live a little.

He glanced around. “Well. This place looks…” He paused for contemplation.

I sinuously rubbed up against him, circling him excitedly in a particularly feline way. Like a cat pacing around an object of interest, which I was. “Exciting? Thrilling? Intense?” I grinned, bumping him with a shoulder.

He met my eyes. “Dangerous.”

I scoffed. “Dangerous? No way! I mean, yes, a little, but no way! This place is TOTALLY safe, unless you're participating, because this is one of those no-holds-barred places. Oh, and don't stand too close to the edge of the arena, 'cause anyone who falls in is free game…” I started to count on my fingers all the ways this place was dangerous. Huh, maybe he had a point.

He just crossed his arms, and didn't look particularly impressed by my rambling answer. “So, this place is basically an underground fight club.”

Maybe? “No! Pounce houses are totally legal.”

He pointed. “There's a betting station over there. Is THIS one legal?”

Um… “Probably? Look, I've been coming here to fulfill my traditions for like two years, it's totally cool.”

He snorted. “You come home every year on this day wrapped in bandages.”

“Those are totally badges of honor.”

“Which I then have to unwrap, so I can wrap you in CLEAN bandages.”

“You worry too much!” Besides, a little bleeding never hurt anyone. “Besides, you don't have to participate or anything. Just watch me at work! I'll look awesome.”

He shuffled over to the arena. It was set a good fifteen feet below, where the audience could look down on it from above. He leaned against the railing. “I'll have nine and one already dialed.”

For someone who didn't put effort into anything, he always seemed to have some snide remark ready. I made a 'psssh' noise, leaning over and bumping his shoulder with my own. “I mean it! You've never experienced it. Just running around on all fours, giving into your instincts, going all wild--”

He turned to look at me. There was half-alarm buried in his usual apathetic look. “If clothes are going to come off I'm leaving right now.”

I laughed. “No! Well, not usually.”

He turned around to leave, and I caught him by the collar, pulling him back. “Fine! Nobody's getting naked. Some people bring their own costumes and shit, but most of us just do the all-fours thing.”

He slumped against me. “Why do I let you talk me into these things?”

“Because you have no drive in life and have literally nothing better to do,” I answered in a matter-of-fact manner, while pulling him close and giving him a light noogie.

He just folded his ears down in response. “That was rhetorical.”

“YOU'RE rhetorical.”

“I'm not going to dignify that with a response.”

I smirked, tilting his muzzle with my paw so I could nuzzle noses with him. “You'll see. Oh, we'll be starting soon! Just…” I guided him over into position next to the railing, my paws on his shoulders. “Stand here, okay? I like to hunt around this corner of the arena anyway. Last time, there was this little twinky deer boy who I caught like six times…” He also had a massive erection each time…

Well, I say massive. Really, below average, but it kinda looked good on his lanky little frame… No, I had to stay focused.

“I repeat: If this turns out to be a sex thing, I'm leaving. And then moving out.”

I grinned again, slapping him on the back. “That's the spirit!”

 

 

 

I cracked my neck, then my fingers. Showtime!

I was down in the waiting room of the arena. This place only had the one entrance and exit into the arena, so there was a one minute countdown for everyone to scramble and find some room to hunt or hide.

The double-wide doors opened, and everyone shuffled through. Once clear, they dropped to all fours, sprinting out- Either in a random direction, or to a favorite hunting ground. I was among them, and as I blitzed forward, I saw all kinds of predators and prey filling the arena. Pretty good turn-out tonight!

I was always amazed at how fast mammals could move on all fours. It just made me feel like getting a night to indulge in our instincts like this was right, you know?

I reached my stalking ground in no time. I was pretty solidly built, as far as female tigers went- I went to the gym, and it damn well showed! I was pretty proud of my guns, and I wasn't afraid to admit it to myself. Or anyone else. Too bad a certain coyote never seemed to care about my wicked gains.

Sometimes, I wondered if my roomie was gay or something. Then again, I don't think he could even muster the enthusiasm for gay sex. And if he did, he probably wouldn't even let me watch! God, such a stick in the mud.

The bell rang. It was starting! Oh, shoot, I got so caught up in thinking about my roommate having gay sex while I watched that I forgot to actually check if he was watching ME. After all, that bell meant I was going to be showing off for him. Like, not like that, but...

I shook my head to clear it, and glanced up excitedly up at the edge of the arena. My favorite coyote was just above me, right where I left him. I waved excitedly.

He leaned over the railing. “I just want you to know--” he started to call-

And then he tumbled over the edge, clearly pushed from behind. I was too surprised to do anything but star--

Ow.

He groaned, rolling off from on top of me and clutching at his side. “Changed my mind. The rest of my sentence is now “I hate you.”

Fuck.

The rules, few as they were, were very clear on what happened to people who 'fell' into the arena. Fresh meat. Unprepared, they usually ended up prey more often then they got to be predators.

Double fuck.

I grunted, stretching out on all fours. Mm, not that bad. I've taken worse tackles in the arena then that. “You okay?”

In a rare display of emotion, he flipped me the bird from his spot lying on the ground. He wasn't even looking in my direction, which made it all the more impressive that he still managed to aim it right at me.

Well, either way, that question was answered. “Can you run? Or fight?”

He rolled over. “I'm going to die here, aren't I.” It wasn't a question. Like just about every thought he'd ever voiced out loud, it was closer to a declaration of resignation.

I huffed. “You are not going to die, don't be a--”

I paused, and went still. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

It was a hyena. And a mangy looking one, too. “Hey… That looks like Fresh Meat,” he hissed out, tensed up on all fours. He had to be enough of a regular to know the term.

Fresh Meat didn't last long in the arena. Fresh Meat was almost always a fan, and the fans didn't exactly measure up to the participants a lot of the time.

“Fuck off, this one's mine,” I growled, arching my back and standing protectively in front of the downed coyote.

He chuckled, which swiftly grew into a full-on hyena cackle. “What's the matter, stripes?! You too much of a pussy-cat to find some REAL prey?”

I took a deep breath, tensing up. “Fuck off, or I'll tear out your throat.”

He didn't believe me. Most participants didn't fight dirty, because of mutually-assured-destruction rules. If you brought out the claws, someone was going to pull out the claws on you, and everyone would end up bleeding out. Most people had enough sense to respect that.

As he leapt, the claws came out, and he realized mid-leap exactly how badly he'd fucked up trying to get the 'kill' on an easy prey.

I intercepted his leap with his own. Rip and tear. My claws shredded at his clothing, and he scrabbled underneath me, kicking desperately in an attempt to get away. The excitement of the hunt distracted me only for a moment. Once I remembered I actually wanted him to go fuck himself somewhere else, I rolled over and kicked him away.

He scampered away. I'm sure he had a reason for hunting- As unkempt as he was, he might be trying to earn something down here. I didn't care.

He wasn't going to beat my friend unconscious and earn his 'kill' if I had anything to say about it.

I stood vigil over the coyote, who had curled up into a gray ball of fur. It seemed like he had either decided to wait out the round, or was busy attempting to visit his happy place.

Possibly both.

Rounds were only ten minutes at a time, during which participants had the chance to duck out and tend to their wounds and rest before going back in for a later round.

Ten minutes were a lot of time when you were fighting for your life. Or when everyone was acting like it.

I managed to burn about half that growling at anyone who came near. I had my claws extended, so most predators with sense backed off.

At some point, my roommate had stood up, and was leaning against the wall behind him for support, still holding his side. He seemed to be stonewalling me, since every time I turned around to check on him, he just glared at me like I had betrayed him. It was an accident, and it wasn't like he'd gotten pounced yet, so I don't know why he looked so offended.

A few prey wandered near, attempting to get me to chase them. I did see that cute deer boy with the hard-on again this time. Maybe next time.

Five minutes to go. Most of the easy prey had been caught by now, and knocked out. That was a problem.

Because The Professionals were stalking this way.

The Professionals were, of course, professionals. They were the ones people bet on, for the most part. And the only reason they'd come this way was if all the good prey was already knocked out.

Fresh Meat was an easy kill. And an easy kill was easy money, for a Professional.

There were five of them. Two tigers, a lion, a panther, and a leopard.

I thanked god that the bear wasn't here today.

“Hey, kitten. Don't play with your food- Let a real predator take the kill,” one of the tigers rumbled.

“Back off,” I rumbled, trying not to sound as scared as I felt. I was going to lose this fight, and I knew it. “This Fresh Meat is off the menu.”

The predators all glanced at each other. They spread into a circle. And at once, they pounced.

These guys wouldn't fight TOO dirty if one of them obviously got the kill. They had to work with each other later on, after all, so it would be career suicide.

I didn't have that restriction. I knew I was more or less completely fucked. There was nothing left to lose, other then my teeth.

I screamed into the night and gave up any thought beyond attacking. Claw. Tear. Bite.

Kill.

 

 

 

Ow.

My first thought was Ow. My next five to seven thoughts were all either 'Ow', or variations of it.

I felt wet.

“Just for the record, I hate you.”

I opened my eyes.

My coyote was standing above me. He was bandaging my sides. The off-white bandages had a lot of red against them.

“Did… Did I win?” I asked groggily, closing my eyes again and lying back. Lying down sounded like a good idea.

“No. You had the shit torn out of you. But you kept them off until the bell, and they backed off,” he answered. “By the way, fuck you. You're never coming here again.”

I opened a single eye to blearily gaze at him. He looked…

He looked so concerned. So scared for me. It was the most emotion I'd ever seen him show.

I huffed. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Why are you groping me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because they shredded the shirt right off your chest. Hope you don't mind wearing bandages home.”

That felt about right. “You're right.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I mean, about not coming back.”

“Yes, I know. You should listen to me more often.”

Despite the deep pain I was in, I offered a small smile. It was only a little delirious.

Custom fulfilled. I had acted like a real tiger for the night. I guess I'd have to find a new way to do it next year, but that was okay.

Just so long as I had my best friend by my side.

He finished bandaging me, and helped me stand. I winced immediately, but dealt with it. It wasn't the first time I went home like this. It just usually wasn't this bad. “Hey… Thanks,” I murmured, leaning into his side.

He glanced away. “You're lucky you don't make me pay rent,” he grumbled. I laughed, then regretted it.

Together, we stumbled out of the room, just as the bell rung for the next round, and predators filed into the arena.

This time, I wasn't among them. I was pretty sure I'd had enough of the hunt to last a life-time.

I had forgotten that I had something- Someone- Far more valuable then the thrill of catching prey, anyway.


End file.
